


Stuck in the Middle with You

by MovesLikeBucky



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), Clones, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Cunnilingus, Inspired by Fanart, M/M, Multiple Crowley's, Top Crowley (Good Omens), Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, sometimes you have to clone yourself to give your angel everything he deserves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:28:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26615974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MovesLikeBucky/pseuds/MovesLikeBucky
Summary: Aziraphale just giggles, threading his fingers through that short crop of red hair, letting himself be drowned in kisses and love and affection. “Wily old serpent that you are, we missed the entire movie!”“Eh, we can start it over.” The gentle kisses become firmer, trailing along Aziraphale’s jaw and down to his neck, right over his pulse point and then down to his collarbone with clear intent.“Darling, I’m not sure you’re talking about the movie,” Aziraphale says with a sigh and just a hint of mischief, thoroughly enjoying being on the receiving end of all this affection.“Aziraphale, you know if I could have you in every way at once I would,” Crowley says as his hands ghost over Aziraphale’s stomach, clever long fingers kneading at the softness of him. “I just can’t get enough of you, angel.” Crowley nips along his chest and circles a nipple with his forked tongue, drawing a gasp out of him.“So, why don’t you?” Aziraphale asks with an arched eyebrow.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 37
Kudos: 260





	Stuck in the Middle with You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Gams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gams/gifts).



> HEYO so, the ever lovely and wonderful Gams posted [THIS ART](https://twitter.com/mdl_oba/status/1303439616725327874?s=20)  
> (plz go look, this will be here when you get back, I'll wait) and I went a bit feral. Look how fucking happy they are! They're having a blast and I love them!
> 
> Anyway mind the tags, is what it says on the tin. Two Crowley's, one Aziraphale in case the tags for some reason are not clear on that.

“Oh, _Crowley!”_ Aziraphale shouts to the stone ceiling, back arching and eyes screwing shut. Crowley, for his part, is preoccupied between the angel’s legs, putting that devilish forked tongue to good use.

Aziraphale can feel Crowley smirk against the core of him, nipping at the soft skin just above his cunt before circling that thin and maddening tongue around his clit again, making him grip the leather sofa cushions hard enough to tear (if they weren’t under strict orders not to).

This was supposed to be a nice and normal night in. A bit of wine, a bit of conversation, here at the flat in Mayfair. Maybe some snuggling on the couch while they watched one of those cinematographic films that Crowley is always on about.

And snuggle they had, but snuggling begets kissing. Kissing begets tongues and wandering hands and a push and a pull; a want and a need. Crowley had worked his buttons loose while Aziraphale had been distracted by all the quite lovely kissing, which had led to the lovely feeling of Crowley’s hands squeezing and kneading at the plump plushness of him. Crowley’s hands had given way to his lips on Aziraphale’s skin, which had led most of their clothes to be tossed off in a hurry.

That’s how Aziraphale finds himself here, a thin forked tongue pulsing in and out of his entrance before circling his clit; Crowley’s nose nuzzling into the fuzzy hair there, bringing him closer and closer to his…third orgasm? Fourth? Aziraphale lost count at some point. 

Steady hands rest on his knees, hold his legs open so Crowley can savor, so he can go deeper and deeper as Aziraphale grips his hair tight and cries out to the empty and open space of the room, orgasm rolling over him as he clenches around Crowley’s tongue.

Crowley works him through it, and Aziraphale can tell that he’s grinning just from the twinkle in his eyes. He rubs the wetness off his face on Aziraphale’s plush thigh, beardstart tickling the sensitive skin there as he presses kisses to each of Aziraphale’s golden stretch marks in turn. He looks up at Aziraphale and smiles, waves of love radiating off him in a way that’s palpable. Aziraphale doesn’t need to sense love to know Crowley’s feelings. He can see it in the soft look in Crowley’s eyes, the blush on his face, the way he leans into Aziraphale, keeps his hands on him. Like he’s afraid Aziraphale will disappear if he doesn’t hold on.

“Darling, that was incredible,” Aziraphale says on shaky breaths, ragged and spent and oh so in love.

“Well, s’pose I’m doing my job right then,” Crowley says, still grinning like a lunatic, pressing kisses along Aziraphale’s thigh and to his knee, to the soft expanse of his stomach. It’s so gentle it almost hurts, and Aziraphale falls in love all over again.

“I love you so much, Crowley,” he says, because he can. Because no one would dare stop him. Just because he likes saying it, really. He spent so long keeping it held inside, not daring to speak it, and there’s a specific kind of freedom in being able to say it every time the fancy strikes him. 

Crowley laughs, climbing up into Aziraphale’s lap and peppering kisses across his cheeks and nose, “I love _you_ so much, angel.”

Aziraphale just giggles, threading his fingers through that short crop of red hair, letting himself be drowned in kisses and love and affection. “Wily old serpent that you are, we missed the entire movie!”

“Eh, we can start it over.” The gentle kisses become firmer, trailing along Aziraphale’s jaw and down to his neck, right over his pulse point and then down to his collarbone with clear intent.

“Darling, I’m not sure you’re talking about the movie,” Aziraphale says with a sigh and just a hint of mischief, thoroughly enjoying being on the receiving end of all this affection.

“Aziraphale, you know if I could have you in every way at once I would,” Crowley says as his hands ghost over Aziraphale’s stomach, clever long fingers kneading at the softness of him. “I just can’t get enough of you, angel.” Crowley nips along his chest and circles a nipple with his forked tongue, drawing a gasp out of him.

“So, why don’t you?” Aziraphale asks with an arched eyebrow.

“Why don’t I what?”

“You’re a clever demon, I’m sure you could figure out a way to have me every way at once.”

“Oh, naughty angel, I thought you wanted to restart the movie?”

“I never said I did, I only insinuated that wasn’t what you were talking about.”

“Bastard,” Crowley says on a smile as he leans in again.

“You love me,” Aziraphale whispers as their lips meet again, opening readily to each other.

“I do.” 

Aziraphale is drunk enough on Crowley’s kiss that his mind barely registers that the voice he just heard did not come from the demon who’s tongue is in his mouth. He notices quite plainly when familiar skinny arms wrap around his neck from behind, a perfect match for the ones wrapped tightly around his waist.

“Crowley?” Aziraphale opens his eyes to find Crowley grinning at him, a sparkle in his eye that means he’s up to something. Behind him, a nose nuzzles into the nape of his neck. He turns around and is met with a second Crowley, who immediately kisses him deeply, pressing his naked body close to Aziraphale’s back.

“Amazing what a little imagination can do, isn’t it, angel?” Crowley — _his_ Crowley — whispers against the skin of Aziraphale’s neck, trailing nips and kisses up the line of it before taking Aziraphale’s earlobe between his teeth. 

“Clever demon,” Aziraphale gasps as the clone bites down on his shoulder, “Clever, _clever_ demon.”

“Only for you, angel,” the clone murmurs into his hair as Crowley continues lavishing his face with kisses. Aziraphale thinks this may all get very confusing very quickly if he doesn’t come up with a way to differentiate.

“You can call him Anthony, if you’d like,” Crowley says as he works his way back up Aziraphale’s jaw. The clone — _Anthony —_ runs his hands over the expanse of Aziraphale’s belly, tracing the cracks of gold there reverently.

“How do you want us, dove?” Crowley hisses into his ear, tickling at it with his tongue. He lays back on the couch, pulling Aziraphale with him, arms wrapped around the angel’s neck, kissing him deeply. Anthony follows them, trailing kisses along Aziraphale’s spine.

“Whatever you want, Aziraphale, it’s yours,” Anthony says from above him. He circles a slick finger at Aziraphale’s hole before pushing inside, opening him slowly, “Soft and beautiful angel.” 

“ _My_ soft and beautiful angel,” Crowley says as he circles his thumb over Aziraphale’s clit. Aziraphale gasps at the dual contact, wanting to grind forward onto Crowley’s hand, wanting to press back and take Anthony in deeper.

Crowley squirms underneath, kissing him soundly, snaking his tongue into Aziraphale’s mouth as Anthony whispers love into his spine. It’s delightfully debauched, beautifully hedonistic, being opened this way. Anthony works in another finger, Crowley continues the ministrations on his clit. Aziraphale thinks he could come from this alone, this beautiful and overwhelming feeling.

Aziraphale has known, has _always_ known, that if he were ever allowed to have Crowley he would never ever have his fill. He would want as much as Crowley were willing to give him; that he would take that and cherish it and revel in it. In the love of a demon, hidden away for so long. Now that love is freely given, and every day Aziraphale overflows with it.

“Are you ready, love?” Crowley whispers in his ear.

“Yes, darling, please, I need you,” Aziraphale breathes back before kissing Crowley deeply again, drinking of it. Taking this communion from Crowley’s lips, the only salvation he needs anymore. Crowley’s arms wrap around Aziraphale’s thighs while Anthony’s wrap around his middle.

Crowley has always been skinny; sharp edges cut from marble. Chiseled from starstuff, bright and shining. Six thousand years has never managed to dull his shine. One might mistake him for fragile, on a first glance. If one was not looking for it, one might miss the whipcord strength he carries in those defined calves, the sleek forearms, and the taut chest. Which is all to say, it is incredibly easy for both of these Crowley’s to lift him up off of the couch, and to sink into him in tandem where he’s already open and ready for them. 

Anthony captures his lips as Crowley hisses aloud. Aziraphale, for his part, cannot speak a word. He’s too lost in this sensation, in being filled by Crowley. In _feeling_ Crowley everywhere. It’s too much and not enough all at once, and he squirms in their hold as he sighs, searching for movement, wanting them to split him open from the inside. Despite this, they hold fast to him. Holding him still, letting him adjust to the twin sensations of their cocks inside of his arse and his cunt.

“Angel…” Anthony moans happily as Aziraphale giggles, “God, you feel incredible.”

“It’s so much, my love,” Aziraphale says with a sigh.

“Too much?” Crowley asks, eyes full of concern.

“Not nearly,” Aziraphale says, cupping Crowley’s cheek, “in fact I’m about to be quite cross if you don’t start to move.”

A bright smile spreads across Crowley’s face as Anthony’s nails dig into his soft belly. Crowley pulls out agonizingly slowly, glancing over Aziraphale’s shoulder at his clone. In tandem, Crowley slams back into Aziraphale’s cunt as Anthony pulls out of his arse. 

“ _Oh!_ Crowley, Anthony, yes, _please!”_

Aziraphale closes his eyes as his back arches. Crowley and Anthony alternate, one in and one out, jostling Aziraphale where he’s held in the air and never leaving him empty for a moment. The angle is just right for Crowley’s cock to slide against his clit, and for Anthony to set a punishing rhythm against his prostate, and he can feel himself ramping up to his precipice. 

Anthony presses a hand against Aziraphale’s chest, leaning him back into him for a different angle. Aziraphale’s legs wrap around Crowley’s waist, freeing his dear demon’s wily and mischievous hands. Anthony grips Aziraphale’s arse tightly, still impaling him with a punishing rhythm, nuzzling into his neck and trailing kisses and love bites there as Crowley fucks into his cunt. Crowley reaches down, finds his clit once again, and rolls it between his fingers.

“You look so deliciously depraved right now, angel,” Crowley tries for cool and collected but misses and lands squarely in besotted territory. His smile is wide and genuine and the love flowing from him could blanket all of London (and probably does). The way Anthony’s hands cradle his curves is soft and gentle, despite the bruising pace.

“As though I could ever have my fill of you, darling,” Aziraphale says as he tries to grind down onto Crowley’s cock. Anthony’s hips stutter just a bit, and the pattern is thrown off. Aziraphale cries out Crowley’s name to the ceiling as they pulse in and out of him at the same time.

Aziraphale has never felt so full, so debauched, and so gloriously and incandescently _loved_ in his long existence.

“Come on then, angel…” Anthony whispers into his ear.

“…come for me, darling,” Crowley answers, capturing his lips.

Aziraphale’s pleasure crests and he clenches around the both of them, moaning and keening into Crowley’s mouth, letting him swallow the sounds off his lips. One of Anthony’s hands comes up and caresses Aziraphale’s chin, coaxing him to turn his head, allowing the clone to kiss him deeply as well. 

He goes limp and pliant in their arms, overstimulated and sated, letting them take turns kissing him and exploring his mouth with their long tongues. Letting them continue to fuck into him with abandon and chase their own releases. He’s certain, at one point, there are two tongues in his mouth, but he’s entirely too blissed out and well-fucked to be sure. 

Several more well-placed thrusts from the both of them have them coming inside of him together, filling him up two-fold. It’s erotic in the best way and sends him over with one final orgasm at the feeling of it, albeit not nearly as loud of one as the last time. 

Crowley and Anthony lower him slowly to his feet, holding him steady. Crowley kisses him gently, murmuring praise and affection against his lips as Anthony drops to his knees. He holds Aziraphale open and cleans him up with his tongue; tracing the lines of come down Aziraphale’s thighs with his mouth. Aziraphale shivers at the contact.

“You did so well, dove, let me…” Crowley trails off, miracling a soft cloth from nowhere, wet with warm water (not too hot, just warm), and gently runs it over his folds. Soothing and cleaning him up in turns.

When they’re both finished they help him over to the sofa, where he settles against Crowley — _his_ Crowley — as Anthony drapes a blanket over them both. Anthony places a soft kiss to Aziraphale’s forehead and winks at them both as he fades out into the ether.

“I did like Anthony quite a lot.”

“I should hope you did, angel, he’s just me.”

“Yes, but it is _dreadfully_ fun having more than one of you to play with.”

“I've created a monster, I have.”

“Maybe so…” Aziraphale says, trailing off thoughtfully, “But maybe next time it’s my turn. I’m sure I could summon up some friends for you to play with.”

Crowley’s face goes beet red as Aziraphale laughs, thoughts of all the things he could do to his dear demon swimming in his head. But for now, he’s sated and happy, and content to snuggle closer into Crowley’s arms as he restarts their movie from the beginning.


End file.
